


Desperate Measures

by rougeandtonic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, First Time, Heterosexual Character, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2392013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougeandtonic/pseuds/rougeandtonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney are stranded on a volcano planet. Things get worse from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Measures

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first SGA fanfic. Takes place mid-season 2, vaguely post-Hive.
> 
> Originally posted 7/3/2008

After three rounds of failed negotiations, a cultural misunderstanding that was completely not Rodney’s fault, a failed attempt to soothe things over that was definitely Teyla’s fault, and a tense moment where Sheppard was entirely too quick on the draw, the team’s visit to M3X-313 quickly descended to a test of guns versus swords and Rodney and Sheppard being unceremoniously shoved through the stargate.

 

Sheppard let out a yelp of what sounded like pain when Rodney landed directly on top of him.

“Sorry, sorry. Oh, god,” Rodney groaned and tried to roll off of Sheppard’s back, ignoring Sheppard’s curses as he did so. He managed to turn around in time to see the gate winking out.

“Okay, okay,” he said out loud, blinking away the dizziness as he stood. He stumbled over to the DHD. “We’ll just port back to Atlantis, Carson will take care of my incipient concussion, Lorne’s team will go back and daringly rescue Teyla and Ronon from the musketeers, and we can just forget this horrible day ever happened.”

When he tried to activate the gate, however, the control panel remained ominously dark. “Right, right, right. Nothing’s ever going to be easy. Of course.” He tried another glyph. Same thing. “Okay. We may have a bit longer here than I thought,” he called over his shoulder to Sheppard. “I hope the natives are friendly.”

“That’s not going to be a problem,” Sheppard said, his voice distant. Rodney turned around.

Oh. They were on a mountain, apparently, and before them spread a wide black valley, marked only by snaking red rivers. Everything he could see was made out of bubbly black volcanic rock. There wasn’t a living thing in sight.

“Oh. Right,” Rodney said dumbly. This, he thought a bit manically, is what Ford would have called Volcano Planet.

It was then that he looked back at Sheppard, who had pulled himself up so he was half-seated, half-crouched on the ground, a hand clutching his side tightly. Blood was dripping through his fingers. Shit.

 

The sword slice across Sheppard’s side was deep but not internal-organs-falling-out deep, thank god. After the musketeers’ search and seizure before they’d shoved them through the gate, neither Rodney nor Sheppard had a med kit, or any supplies at all. Rodney wrapped his shirt tight around Sheppard’s side and managed to get him into a small cave down the path before he headed back to the DHD.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to find the problem.

 

“So,” Rodney announced, stooping into the cave. “You’re grievously injured, we’re stuck on a volcanic hell-planet with no supplies and no med kits. You want to hear the good news?”

“You’re such an optimist, McKay,” Sheppard said, struggling to sit up.

“Don’t move!” Rodney exclaimed, shoving Sheppard’s shoulders back down onto the cave floor where they belonged. He readjusted his jacket, which he’d bunched up for Sheppard to use as a pillow. “Are you trying undo all my hard work patching you up?”

“The bad news, McKay?” he growled.

“Bad news.” He looked away. “Right. Well, it looks like we’re not going to be getting off here.”

“What?” Sheppard demanded.

“What did I say about moving!” Rodney exclaimed. He pushed Sheppard back down, putting a little more weight behind it this time. “The DHD doesn’t have a power source. No way of activating the gate, ergo, no getting off this planet.”

“What are you doing here then? Go fix it!” Sheppard commanded.

“Fix it? Are you deaf? There’s no power. There’s nothing to fix--it’s impossible!”

“You always say that and you fix it anyways!” he argued.

“Well, this time, its really is impossible!”

“You always say that, too!”

“Damnit, Colonel, even if I had a toolkit and all the time in the world, the gate won’t work without a DHD and there’s no power source!”

Rodney felt the tension drain from Sheppard’s shoulders. “I know,” Sheppard said resignedly. “I get it. You just have to get past the second impossible before I believe you.”

“Oh my god, Colonel, you are--”

“So we’ll wait,” Sheppard said. “They’ll send a search team when we haven’t checked in and they’ll figure it out.”

“We have to stay alive until then,” Rodney said, glaring down accusingly at Sheppard.

Sheppard’s eyes widened in his best ‘what? me?’ look and then he asked, “Are you seriously going to hold me down until they get here?”

“If I have to,” Rodney said, but his arms were already getting tired of this position.

“Look, I promise not to move and ruin your lovely attempt at first aid, okay?”

Rodney released Sheppard’s shoulders warily and drew back.

“You’re naked,” Sheppard observed, his eyes on Rodney’s chest.

“I’m not naked! I’m shirtless. I’m sorry if you find it disturbing,” Rodney said defensively. “But my shirt is currently employed holding your insides in and--”

“Rodney.”

“What!”

“I just thought you might be cold. You should take your jacket back.” Sheppard lifted up his head and reached for Rodney’s jacket.

“No moving! What did I say about moving?”

“Okay, okay,” Sheppard said calmly, lowering his head back down. “But I really don’t need a pillow that badly...”

“I’m not cold,” Rodney snapped, even though now that they were talking about it, he kind of was.

 

 

Rodney double and triple and quadruple checked that there weren’t any stray power sources hiding anywhere around the gate or the control panel or in any of the crags of black rock around the platform. When he finally gave up, the sun was starting to set and the rivers of lava were glowing eerily in the blackness far below.

“Do you want the good news or the good news?” Sheppard asked when he stepped back into the cave.

“You better not have moved,” Rodney warned him, eyeing Sheppard warily in the dim light.

“I didn’t move, McKay. Jesus.” It turned out Sheppard had spent his time productively listening and heard a drip-drip of water coming from one corner of the cave. Rodney investigated and it turned out, yes, it appeared to be a small trickle of fresh water running down the back of the cave wall. Ignoring his qualms about cholera and giardia, he took a big long drink. Then he cupped his hands and brought water over for Sheppard to drink. It took three tries before they got the coordination right and it didn’t end up all over Sheppard’s chin and chest.

“I think there’s a little plastic cup in the med kit,” Rodney said regretfully.

“Shut up about the med kit.”

In the dying light, Rodney gingerly set out to wash out Sheppard’s wound. It was bleeding again, in a slow trickle, and when he was done, he re-wrapped it tight with his torn up t-shirt. Sheppard kept his manly screams of pain to himself.

At Sheppard’s insistence--not that Rodney was going to argue, it really was getting cold now--he very carefully helped Sheppard out of his TAC vest and folded it up to replace his jacket as a pillow. As he zipped up his jacket, he felt the touch of a hand on his arm in the darkness.

“I wasn’t disgusted,” Sheppard said quietly.

“Oh, well. Good to know,” he said, and settled with his head on the TAC vest pillow next to Sheppard’s. “I’ll remember that next time I get the urge to strip down.”

 

Rodney woke up to morning light streaming into the cave. His neck and back ached from sleeping on the hard ground. There was a strange weight on his chest and he looked down, blinking, and saw Sheppard’s head resting there. Of course, he thought a little bit jealously. It was probably a lot more comfortable than the stupid vest.

He shifted Sheppard’s head back to the vest so he could get up and couldn’t help but noticing how flushed Sheppard’s skin was.

He checked the gate again, and examined the inner workings of the control panel, hoping that somehow he’d missed seeing a power source there. But of course he hadn’t. He was Rodney McKay. He didn’t miss small things; he only missed things that ended up blowing up 5/6ths of solar systems. If there was no power last night, there’d be none this morning.

His stomach felt empty and queasy from lack of food. The last thing he’d eaten was the swill the musketeers had tried to feed them before everything had gone so wrong. If he was Sheppard, he supposed he’d go exploring, but he could tell just from looking around that it would be a waste of time. The mountain they were on was a dark and craggy rock. There was nothing living anywhere--no plants, no insects, no birds overhead, not even any bats in the cave. And beyond the mountain was the black valley, with its rivers of lava.

He knew food didn’t even matter much, despite his stomach’s insistence otherwise. They had water, so they’d survive at least a couple more days. Sheppard would die of infection before they starved to death.

“You better get here soon,” Rodney said darkly in the direction of the gate.

 

He helped Sheppard drink and examined his wound again. It was no longer threatening to bleed, but the skin around it was turning a pinkish hue. He tugged Sheppard’s shirt back down, not wanting to look at it.

“Lie back down with me,” Sheppard said. Rodney grumbled about cave floors and bad backs but he complied. He didn’t have anything better to do. Sheppard moved his head back to Rodney’s chest and Rodney shifted his arm to make it a little more comfortable.

Rodney drifted in and out of sleep. Once, when he woke, Sheppard was stroking his hand with his fingers.

“Uh,” he said.

“How are you doing, buddy?” Sheppard asked, lacing his fingers through Rodney’s.

“Good. Fine. I wasn’t the one disemboweled by a sword,” he reminded him sharply.

“Right,” Sheppard said, and then sighed. “You know, this wasn’t how I pictured finally getting to sleep with you.”

Rodney was prepared to dismiss that as the ramblings of a fevered brain except--“What?”

Sheppard shifted his head on Rodney’s chest to look up at him. “You heard me,” he said.

Okay... Rodney knew he was going to regret this, but, “And how did you picture it?”

“Less painful,” Sheppard said thoughtfully.

“Okay.”

“And not stranded on an alien planet. Usually, we’re in my quarters.”

Rodney choked. “Colonel--”

“And you’re usually a bit more friendly,” Sheppard complained.

“Oh my god. You’re one of those--what does the military call it--two-beer queers? Hundred and four degree fever queers?” He reached out with the hand Sheppard wasn’t holding and felt his forehead. Hundred and four probably wouldn’t be far off.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m queer all the time,” he said seriously.

Jesus, Sheppard was choosing now of all times to come out of the closet. What was he supposed to say? “Well. Well, okay, then. I’m thirsty. Are you thirsty?”

He extracted himself from a very fevered Colonel and stumbled to the back of the cave.

 

Rodney stared down at the slow-moving lava far below. So, Sheppard was gay, apparently, if things said in the heat of fever could be said to be true. Rodney was annoyed and a little hurt. They were supposed to be friends. This was something friends knew about each other. Not facts that come out in fevered conversations a year and a half later.

If Rodney had been gay, he was pretty sure he would have told Sheppard at the earliest opportunity. Who was he kidding? If Rodney had been gay, he would have been all over Sheppard at the earliest opportunity. Even he could tell he was an attractive man, and he had that whole flyboy mystique...

And, crazily, it sounded like it would have worked out. From Sheppard’s ramblings, it sounded like he’d thought about Rodney that way before.

But Rodney couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it. All he could muster the energy to care about was getting Sheppard to Carson and his antibiotics, preferably as soon as possible.

He gave the stargate another look and headed back into the cave.

 

Rodney woke up dreaming that the musketeers had missed taking a power bar from his pocket. He tore it open and took a long, slow bite, turning the sweet, sweet protein over and over in his mouth before swallowing--

And waking up to an empty stomach and a general feeling of crappiness. Just to be sure, he patted down the pockets of his pants with the arm that wasn’t around Sheppard. No luck. He sank back down into the rocky ground and tightened his grip on his friend.

It was a cool morning but Sheppard was still burning up, and now he was covered in a light sheen of sweat.

 

Rodney tinkered with the gate controls for a couple hours, even though he knew it was hopeless without power. When he got back into the cave, he panicked when Sheppard was gone from his position on the ground, but then made him out from the darkness of the far cave wall, by the water.

“Colonel,” he said, hurrying over. “Colonel, are you okay?”

Sheppard’s face was tilted in the small stream of water and he didn’t respond.

“Colonel!” Rodney yanked Sheppard back.

“I’m fine, McKay,” he mumbled. He was still flushed, despite the cold water dripping off his face.

“Yes, I can see that. Clearly, you’re just fine.” Sheppard’s shirt had ridden up to reveal his injured side. White pus was bursting out of the slash, and red lines radiated around it. If Rodney had had supplies, he might have tried to drain the infection, but he had nothing sharp and nothing clean.

“I was thirsty,” Sheppard said, his eyes lidded.

“You should have called for me. I would have helped--you’re all wet. You’ll get cold. And, maybe, yes, cold would be a good change for you right about now, wet probably isn’t.”

Which was how he ended up half-dragging Sheppard out of the cave and into the mid-day sun. He propped him up against the rocky wall and sat a couple feet away.

“This is officially the worst planet ever,” Sheppard declared. Rodney agreed with him. Any planet where nothing living could survive immediately made it to the bottom of the list.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, and then Sheppard said, “You must be hungry.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I--I don’t think I could eat if we had food. But you... I checked all my pockets, the vest, but the damn musketeers took it all.”

“Yeah, me too. They took mine, too,” Rodney said glumly.

“Look, last night, I said.” Sheppard averted his eyes uncomfortably. “I was feverish.”

“You’re still feverish,” Rodney reminded him. He was looking worse than yesterday, gaunt and almost pallid under the flush of fever.

“I never should have said what I did. I hope you can forget--”

“Forget? It’s--” already been forgotten was on the tip of Rodney’s tongue but he stopped himself just short of saying it. It suddenly hit him that this was very possibly the end. If Atlantis hadn’t made it to them in two days, there was no saying they’d ever make it, least of all in time. Sheppard wasn’t going to last long. The infection was spreading quickly. And they said you could survive three weeks without food, but Rodney was pretty sure he wouldn’t make it that long himself. He was already feeling weak. And, damnit, if this was it, Rodney couldn’t stand to spend their last days--hours?--awkward and miserable on this hell of a planet. If there was anything Sheppard deserved, it was to be happy, and if Rodney could give him that, even a little, it would be worth it.

So, he said, “No.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to forget.”

“McKay...” Sheppard said irritably. Rodney crossed the couple feet between them and, ignoring the rush of nervousness he felt when he met Sheppard’s eyes, kissed him.

It was brief. Just the brush of chapped lips against chapped lips. Sheppard’s chin was scratchy with two days worth of beard. And then Sheppard shoved him off with surprising strength.

“What the hell, McKay! I don’t need a pity fuck.”

“A pity--?! Oh, that’s rich,” Rodney said indignantly, even though Sheppard wasn’t exactly wrong. “Even if I would stoop to that level--which I wouldn’t!--you’re so not there yet. And you call me melodramatic!” Rodney took a breath and then continued, warming to the subject. “I admit, you’re not much to look at at the moment, but I want you anyways, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“Oh,” Sheppard said quietly. His eyes were wide.

“Yes, oh.”

“I thought you were straight,” he said.

“Well, obviously, you thought wrong,” Rodney lied, but with great conviction.

“Oh,” Sheppard said again, and then reached out and tugged Rodney back over to him by the collar of his jacket.

This kiss was warmer and Sheppard’s lips were softer now that he was kissing back. Rodney had never contemplated what kissing another guy would feel like, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have imagined it would feel this comfortable. Sheppard’s hand was tugging through his hair and he was slowly sucking in Rodney’s lower lip when he broke away panting.

“I usually have a bit more stamina than this,” Sheppard confessed, slumping back against the wall.

“Well,” Rodney said, feeling a bit shaken. “I would certainly hope so.”

 

Later, back in the cave, they were back in their usual positions with Sheppard’s head on Rodney’s chest. Sheppard had slept for a long time, but he seemed to be slowly waking up. He was tracing his fingers down Rodney’s side and Rodney could feel the heat of his cheek through his jacket.

Then Sheppard was unzipping his jacket and sliding his hand underneath to Rodney’s naked chest.

“That feels good,” Rodney said, and then realized it was the truth. Sheppard’s fingers were gentle and they were slowly feeling their way down Rodney’s ribs. You apparently didn’t have to be gay to appreciate someone else’s touch. They should have started doing this a long time ago.

Sheppard made a sound of agreement and traced a fingernail over Rodney’s nipple. Rodney arched involuntarily.

“Jesus,” Sheppard said. “Your timing sucks, Rodney.”

“What? My timing?” Rodney mustered up a bit of outrage. “You’re the one who picked last night to finally come out. You had a year and a half to tell me, you know.”

“This isn’t how I pictured it,” Sheppard said. His hand was down on the curve of Rodney’s stomach, where it met his pants.

“Well, I’m sorry if this isn’t--”

“No,” Sheppard said quickly. “No, I just thought we should have time. And a real bed. And maybe some other amenities.”

“And food? Can there be food?” Rodney asked.

Sheppard snorted. “Yes, Rodney, there can be food. What would you like? Strawberries? Cherries?”

“We don’t have strawberries on Atlantis,” Rodney pointed out.

“And we don’t have anything here. That’s the point of a fantasy,” Sheppard said irritably. Then, after a moment, he offered, “I’d feed you.”

“Chocolate,” Rodney said.

“Chocolate. I could feed you chocolate.” Sheppard traced his lips with a finger. “I’d feed it to you and then lick it off your lips...”

Rodney darted out his tongue to lick Sheppard’s finger and he felt Sheppard take a sharp breath. Rodney had to remind himself that he was straight and Sheppard was dying and this wasn’t supposed to be this hot.

“I’d kiss you,” Sheppard’s voice shook as Rodney sucked in his finger. “Your mouth. Christ. I bet you’re great at blow jobs.”

“Of course I am,” Rodney said, even though he’d never even contemplated being on anything other than the receiving end before. But Rodney was good at most things. It was a safe bet. “Are you--are you any good?”

Sheppard laughed and then drew in a hiss of pain. Right. Side sliced open. “It’s been a while,” he said. “But I’ve thought about it. Just kneeling down and opening your fly.” Sheppard’s hand was resting on Rodney’s crotch now and he was quickly getting hard. “And...”

Rodney waited a moment, but Sheppard didn’t speak or move his hand. “And?” he prompted, but he didn’t get a response.

He looked down and Sheppard was sound asleep.

 

Later that night, Rodney made him drink a few handfuls of water and Sheppard’s lips lingered longer than normal on his fingers. When they were arranged to go back to sleep, Sheppard mumbled, “I thought it would be aliens.”

“Huh? Aliens? What?”

“We’d be off-world and there’d be some kind of, I don’t know, fertility ritual. And they wouldn’t let us leave unless we had sex.”

“Okay...” Apparently mortal injuries and high fevers made Sheppard horny. It figured.

“And I couldn’t ask Teyla...”

“Right. No. Because that would actually make sense, what with her being a woman and it being a fertility ritual.”

“I couldn’t ask Teyla,” Sheppard said firmly.

“So what about Ronon?”

“It has to be you,” Sheppard insisted. “That’s the point.”

“So I just agree to this? Because as far as you know, I’m straight, and I’m not so much into public sex.”

“Well, neither am I, but if we don’t do it, they’re going to kill us all.”

Rodney was willing to accept that. “So what happens?”

“They take us into this large room, with a platform. And there’s lots of people watching, but they all kind of disappear when you bend over and I fuck you and you’re so tight--”

“Of course I’m tight. I’m very tight.” Rodney pondered. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Sheppard said. “And then--”

“Wait, why do you get to fuck me?” Rodney interrupted. “I’m straight and bound to be traumatized by this experience as it is. You should let me fuck you.”

“If you want to fuck me, get your own fantasy,” Sheppard grumbled.

Rodney contemplated that for a moment. “I guess I don’t argue this much in your fantasy.”

“No,” Sheppard sighed. “More.”

 

 

The next day, Rodney had to sit down and rest twice on the way to check on the gate. Day four without food and he was weak and dizzy. Sheppard was barely lucid anymore. Four days. The chances of Atlantis rescuing them now were slim. He stared down at the volcanic valley below and wondered if he’d bring himself to jump off once Sheppard died. He couldn’t stand the thought of starving to death all alone.

Back in the cave, he made Sheppard drink more water and then leaned over and kissed him as gently as he could, licking the stray drops of water off his burning lips.

“Rodney,” Sheppard said weakly.

“I’m here,” Rodney said, lying back down and curling himself around Sheppard.

“You’re here,” he repeated. He was covered in sweat, and shaking a little. Rodney swallowed down his fear.

“Talk to me, Colonel. Tell me a story. Anything.” Remind me you’re still alive, Rodney thought desperately.

Sheppard was silent for so long Rodney thought he’d gone back to sleep, but finally he spoke: “You know the way you look at computers.”

“The way I look--”

“When there’s a crisis and the city’s going to blow up in thirty seconds and all your focus is on the screen, all your attention is on figuring out this one thing.”

“You should be grateful for that. I have a good track record of not letting the city blow up.”

“I want that,” Sheppard said softly.

“The city to blow up?”

“Your attention.”

Rodney pulled back so he could see Sheppard. He was watching him intently, eyes steady despite the fever. “You want me to figure you out?”

“I want you to see me,” Sheppard said.

 

The next day--at least, Rodney thought it was the next day; it could have been a different day, or the same day, or any day at all--he dragged himself out of the cave only far enough to see the gate and that no one had come for them. He fell to the ground just inside the cave entrance and stared numbly at Sheppard. His breathing was ragged and it seemed like a long time since he’d last woken up.

“They’re not coming,” Rodney said out loud, feeling a little bit crazed. “They’re really not coming and we’re going to die out here. I’m going to die and I have so much left to do. Atlantis isn’t going to last without me. The first crisis and--Zelenka’s good, but he’s not me. And I was so close to understanding how to build a ZPM. No one’s going to understand my notes. And I never even got a break to really think about Unified Theory, but I’m sure if I had had the time--”

“What the hell, McKay?” Sheppard was up on his elbows, flushed and gaunt and glaring at him.

“I’m going to die,” Rodney said. “My research is still classified and I never won a Nobel Prize and you can’t win a Nobel Prize if you’re dead. I’m going to be recognized posthumously--posthumously!”

“Shut up,” Sheppard said angrily, but the effect was dampened by the hoarseness of his voice.

“But they’re not coming. If they were, they would have been here already, and you know it. There’s no food and you’re sick and we’re going to--”

“Christ, Rodney! Shut up.”

Rodney finally did. Sheppard collapsed back on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Rodney said after a minute’s silence. “I didn’t mean...”

“There are times,” Sheppard said raggedly. “Times I’m so angry at you. I hate you so much.”

Rodney felt stricken. “Not many times, right?” he asked weakly.

“Times when you blow up solar systems. Times like now.”

Rodney didn’t say anything.

“If I could, I’d throw you right up against that wall right there.” Rodney had to strain to hear Sheppard’s voice. “I’d hurt you,” he said. “And mark you. And fuck you so hard, so you could never forget...”

“John?” Rodney said, crawling over to him.

“You’d never forget,” Sheppard said as his eyes dropped closed.

It was the last time he woke up.

 

Rodney slept a lot and when he woke, he’d get water from the stream at the back of the cave and force it down Sheppard’s throat. Then he’d curl up back around Sheppard and try to sleep again and forget the pain and hunger and the dying man in his arms.

One time, when he woke, things were different. Sheppard was still hot with fever, but his breathing was shallow and his pulse was slowing.

Rodney squeezed his eyes shut against the tears and clutched him tighter.

 

The next thing he knew, there were noises and talking all around him. He slowly blinked his open against the bright lights and loosened his hold on Sheppard. They were on the bridge of the Daedalus and Caldwell and the crew were all watching him.

It only took Rodney a split second to understand the situation.

“Way to wait until the last fucking minute, Colonel,” he said angrily, shaking as he extracted himself from Sheppard. “What are you doing sitting there? Get Carson! Where is he? Tell me you weren’t too stupid to assume that we might--I don’t know--need a medic after being stranded on a hell planet for five days, because if you don’t get Carson here now, Sheppard’s not going to...”

“Rodney.” He felt a hand come down on his shoulder. It was Carson. “Rodney, I’m here. It’s going to be all right.”

“It better be,” Rodney threatened darkly, and promptly passed out.

 

 

Apparently Elizabeth had sent a team after Teyla and Ronon and they’d managed to get the coordinates of the volcano planet from the musketeers, but hadn’t been able to open a gate to it. They’d called the Daedalus back from its supply run, but it had been almost a week out from Atlantis at full speed.

Rodney was released from the infirmary after a day’s observation. They’d given him an IV and patched up a few scrapes and then released him with the orders to go down to the mess and eat something.

Those were the kind of orders Rodney could follow.

Rodney visited Sheppard several times, and each time was like a time reversal of their days in the cave, as the fever faded and Sheppard regained his normal color. The last time Rodney visited, Sheppard had been sitting up and talking with Elizabeth, looking so bright and healthy that Rodney had to swallow down the lump in his throat. When Sheppard saw him, he gave him a slow grin that made Rodney’s stomach lurch.

And now, six hours later, he was gone.

“You released him? Are you insane?” Rodney demanded.

“Rodney.”

“Do you not realize Colonel Sheppard was just about two breaths away from dying not even three days ago?”

“Aye, Rodney, listen--”

“Dying, Carson! And you just give him a few pills and send him on his way?”

“Rodney.” Carson’s tone was sharp enough this time to cut Rodney off. “I admit, his condition was critical and if we hadn’t gotten to you when we did, his chances wouldn’t have been good. And antibiotics may seem low tech around here”--he gestured to the ancient equipment beeping around them--“But they were a fantastic discovery and have saved many lives. Including Colonel Sheppard’s.”

“But--”

“He’ll be on light duty for the next week--as are you--and he’ll have to finish the course of medicine, but he’s really perfectly fine. Believe me, I wouldn’t have released him if I had the slightest inkling otherwise.”

Rodney gave him a hard look and Carson had the gall to laugh.

“Now, go on. You’re scaring the other patients. You should find Sheppard in his quarters.”

“Right,” Rodney said, somewhat subdued. “Right.”

 

Rodney didn’t go to Sheppard’s quarters. Instead, he went back to his own, grabbed a power bar, and sank down onto his bed.

He wasn’t ready yet. When Sheppard was in the infirmary and they didn’t have any privacy, Sheppard wasn’t going to say anything and Rodney certainly wasn’t. But now that Sheppard was out--God, he could come through Rodney’s door right now; he glanced up at the door fearfully, thinking ‘lock, lock’--Rodney was going to have to tell him.

What he’d done was unforgivable. He might have lied to Sheppard out of kindness, but he doubted Sheppard would see it that way now. Sheppard had told him intimate things, private fantasies, under false pretenses. That wasn’t something you come back from. The worst part was, Rodney had liked it. The fact that someone, anyone, fantasized about Rodney in a way that didn’t involve killing him slowly and painfully (he knew certain members of the science staff had those kinds of fantasies frequently) was amazing. That it was Sheppard, who was possibly Rodney’s favorite person on Atlantis--hell, anywhere--was unbelievable.

Kissing Sheppard had been nice. Comfortable. More comfortable than Rodney had ever thought kissing a guy could be. And holding him, sleeping with him, had been good. Rodney had always been a tactile person. But Rodney wasn’t gay.

And any minute now, Sheppard could be banging down his door all ready to reenact one of those fantasies he’d shared and Rodney was going to have to destroy what little trust was left between them.

Suddenly there was a knock at his door. ‘Lock, lock, lock’ he thought at the door.

“Rodney, it’s me,” came Sheppard’s voice.

Right. Right. He closed his eyes and thought, resignedly, ‘open.’

Sheppard walked in looking just like pre-sword wound version: perky hair, bright eyes, lazy saunter. The door slid shut behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Rodney demanded, pointing a finger at Sheppard’s chest. “Do you have any idea how long a walk it is from your quarters to mine? You should be in bed.” Sheppard raised an eyebrow at that. “Resting! Resting in bed. In your own bed.”

“Carson gave me the okay. I’m fine.”

“Fine!? Fine?” His voice cracked and he shook his finger at him. “Has everyone on Atlantis forgotten that three days ago you were--you were--”

“Rodney.” Sheppard’s hand was suddenly clenching his forearm. “I really am okay. I feel good. Great.”

“Well, you don’t look ‘great’,” he said, even though it wasn’t true.

Sheppard just rolled his eyes. “Give me a couple days, okay, buddy?”

Rodney looked down at where Sheppard was holding his arm and Sheppard dropped it quickly.

“There’s something I have to say,” Sheppard said.

“Me too,” Rodney said quickly. “I need to go first.”

“I remember everything,” Sheppard said anyways.

“Well, good for you and your memory, because ironically--ha!--you’re really going to be wishing that you didn’t--”

“We can’t do this,” Sheppard said as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Look, what I did, I did out of--what?” Rodney narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, we can’t do this? We can’t do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. And I mean I can’t,” Sheppard said quietly. “I’m the military commander of Atlantis.”

Rodney urged his mouth to say, I understand, but instead what came out was, “What? Who cares?”

“A hundred and twenty-five marines care,” Sheppard said, his voice brittle. “I don’t know how it works in the Mounties, but in the Air Force, they kick you out for this shit.”

I see your point, Rodney meant to say. And shut up about the Mounties. But instead: “What? And you’re just going to give up what you want for a stupid rule? When do you ever follow rules anyways? Haven’t you ever heard of secrets? People might be surprised to learn this, but I, for one, am very good at keeping secrets.”

“Rodney,” Sheppard said, his expression pained.

Rodney didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but he found himself stepping forward and jabbing a finger into Sheppard’s chest. “No. You want this. I’m not letting you walk away.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Sheppard said, but his voice was wavering.

Rodney barked out a laugh. “Oh, you have no idea how terrible an idea this is.” He reached out and touched a palm to Sheppard’s freshly shaven cheek. His heart was pounding very fast.

When Sheppard kissed him, it was just like Rodney remembered. Sheppard’s mouth felt comfortable and right on his. He tugged him closer and Rodney let his body sink into Sheppard’s. It was the same body he’d slept next to for five days, but now it was tense and hard and alive.

Rodney pulled back. “Look I--I don’t want to undermine any of my earlier arguments, because they got us here, and here seems like quite a nice place to be.” Sheppard was stroking up and down his back, looking rather impatient. “A very nice place! And I’m looking forward to all the gay sex we’ll be having imminently, but, uh, I feel the need to tell you that I’m extremely terrified.”

“Me too,” Sheppard said.

“I’ve never been gay before,” Rodney confessed.

Sheppard’s hands stilled. “I figured,” he said softly.

“I mean--wait. You figured? What?”

“You’re a terrible liar, Rodney.”

“You knew... all along? You’re not mad?”

“You thought we were going to die.” Sheppard looked away. “And I wanted it. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I kind of thought we were going to die, too.”

“Oh.” Rodney narrowed his eyes. “Wait--when you came here, all ‘I can’t do this,’ ‘military commander of Atlantis’, you were giving me a way out, weren’t you?”

“Do you need one?” Sheppard asked very carefully.

Rodney thought it would probably be a good idea to think about that, but, hell. He grabbed Sheppard and kissed him again.

 

Some awkward fumbling, a certain amount of frottage, two particularly uncooperative articles of clothing, three incipient freak-outs and one amazing blow job later, they lay panting on Rodney’s bed.

“Did you even get off?” Rodney asked, when he’d regained the power of coherent speech.

“Yeah.”

“When? I don’t remember--”

“Rodney,” Sheppard said, kissing him lightly. “Calm down.”

“Um. Right. Okay.” Rodney kissed him back. “I guess I was a lot more suave in your fantasies.”

Sheppard looked like he was thinking about it, and then finally shook his head. “No,” he said. “You weren’t.”

 

 

Epilogue

Teyla had just finished explaining to them the fertility rite their hosts at M4L-495 had requested they participate in.

“I’ll explain to them that this is not acceptable in your culture,” she said.

“We really could use those potato-things, though,” Sheppard mused.

“I believe they’ll be willing to trade with us even if we don’t participate in the ritual.”

“Still, in the spirit of cultural cooperation...” He looked over at Rodney.

“Oh, no, Sheppard, this is not a good idea.”

Sheppard grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the SGA flashfic First Aid Challenge


End file.
